


Happy Accidents

by Komatsu



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Period talk, Pregnancy Scares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 16:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Komatsu/pseuds/Komatsu
Summary: Edea has to talk to Ringabel about Things that have happened since their time together in Gravemark… or rather Things that have not happened.Set a few weeks after Warmth, so if you have not read that first, you will probably need to!





	Happy Accidents

**Author's Note:**

> As a warning this contains somewhat frank description of periods, blood and all.

It was a bright, sunny morning as Ringabel sailed across the ocean to their next destination. No clouds on the horizon, no storms that might ruin his day. They would reach the shores of Eisen by evening, likely, and Hartschild was just a day’s journey after that. Nothing could get in their way.

Nothing except for the sudden slam of the bridge door, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Ringabel!” Edea called. He could hear her thundering up the steps, a storm in her own right.

Ringabel groaned to himself as he let up on the throttle of the ship. When she had that tone in her voice, he knew she’d demand all his attention, and he didn’t want to send them into the sea. Hopefully, this would be a short conversation and then he could go back to the ship. Airy had been pestering him for days to get to the Fire Crystal, and the nagging made it hard to sleep. He needed his beauty rest.

“Hello dear,” he said jovially as Hurricane Edea’s bow popped into view. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”  
  


Her cheeks were flushed. Ringabel would normally admire such a look on her, but her eyes were sharp, and her eyebrows close together with some furor as she stared him down. Quickly, he racked his brain for whatever he’d done that might have upset her.

Try as he might, he couldn’t think of anything. At least, nothing that he’d done  _recently_.

It had been just over two weeks since he and Edea had escaped Gravemark, having spent six days snowed in together, alone. During that time, they had grown closer than ever, in both the metaphorical and physical sense. However, once they’d returned to the Grandship a few days ago, Edea had requested that he give her some space, and he had respected that request. He’d only seen her at mealtimes, or in the evening when he was done flying for the day and the group was working on their own personal projects in the inn. By now he was starting to get a little lonely, but it had given him some time to think and compose poetry in his head. He’d worked on some sketches of her. Edea had promised him a new hat, one with tassels, if he complied, and he had been having difficulty finding one he liked in stores.

Surely she wasn’t angry at him  _now_  over the time in the cabin, was she? She’d told him before she’d enjoyed it…! Maybe she was angry because he was spending too much time away from her? Women were confusing! Ringabel stepped away from the steering once they were at a stop, holding his hands up.

“Please say something,” he begged. Had she been waiting for him to get away from the wheel to hit him? He was innocent here!

“I’m late,” she told him, chin high.

“Late?” he asked, puzzled. “Late for what?” And if she needed to be somewhere, why hadn’t she told him before he set course for Eisenberg? He doubted he’d be able to get anywhere now in a timely manner.

“My period.”

He was quite glad that he was no longer flying the airship, because he was certain in that moment, that they would have crashed straight into the water. His legs gave out on him and he sat down hard on the worn, wooden floor of the bridge. She followed, kneeling across from him, already reaching out as he swayed.

“Don’t you dare,” Edea started to warn, but it was too late. His head felt light, his vision going white at the edges. Static filled his ears, along with her words, over and over. She was late.

The next thing he knew he was staring up at the ceiling of the bridge. Clouds were hovering just at the edge of the window, mocking him. Where had they come from?

“Boys are pansies,” Edea said from somewhere to his right as he vaguely thought to himself that the ceiling needed repairs. Boards were bare in some places. No wonder he sometimes found water on the floor after a storm.

The back of his head stung; he must have hit it when he fainted. Ringabel propped himself up on an elbow gingerly to find her, trying not to move his head too much. Edea was sitting, half-lounging, on the top step, looking back at him.

“We are not,” he tried to defend himself, but it was a weak defense. He had just fainted for… for no reason at all! “You simply… startled me.”

Edea snorted. “You think that’s startling? Try being in my shoes.”

He grimaced. “I would… rather not,” he confessed. He didn’t even want to be in his own shoes at that moment. Then, after an awkward pause, he asked. “How do you know you’re late?” How did women know these things at all?

Her anger seemed to have faded by now, but her voice was grim even as she swung around to face him fully. Ringabel pushed himself up into a more proper sitting position at the same time, crossing his legs under him.

“Agnès and I are mostly synced,” the woman explained. “We usually get our periods within the same day, but just a while ago she asked me if I had gotten mine, because usually when I do, I warn her. It was then that I realized that… I hadn’t.”

“It’s only been a day then, yes?” In that case, he could breathe, though he still didn’t quite understand what she meant.

“A day or so. Usually, it’s the first couple of days that are bad for us, so we schedule time for ice cream sundaes… lots of them. You haven’t felt pain until you’ve felt cramps.”

Ringabel cringed. It wasn’t that this was his first time talking about a woman’s monthly cycle - he’d had sex education both in and out of the military, and being a commanding officer he’d overheard some of his own soldiers complain about their monthly cycles. One in particular had had a tendency to duck out of muster during her time, and he’d had to speak with her directly about seeing a physician for the problem. But he’d never been good talking about it, even when it had just been him and his tutors, and even less in this moment, all things considered.

She noticed his discomfort. “Oh come on, Ringabel. Are you thirteen or twenty three?”

Privately, he thought that he was neither, because surely the months that he had spent travelling between worlds counted for something, and he was closer to twenty five at this point, and there was very little physical difference between two years at that age. But this was neither the time nor the place to attempt to calculate his actual age, or to bring it up in conversation with Edea.

“It’s just not something I talk about often,” he finally said, lifting a hand to rub at a warmed cheek. “Of course, I’m always ready to offer you a shoulder to cry on anytime you’re not feeling well, my dear. It’s just this subject is a bit … foreign.”

“You’ll have to get used to it,” she said stiffly. “When you’re married, and if you have daughters, they’ll make you know.”

Married! With children? Ringabel tried not to grin with joy at the thought. Instead, he cleared his throat and made his best attempt to change the subject. “This is beyond you not feeling well though, isn’t it? …  _Are_  you feeling sick?” Wasn’t a woman supposed to have morning sickness? Edea’s appetite for breakfast hadn’t changed in the least from what he had seen.

To his relief, she shook her head. “No, not a bit. Not even when we went through that storm the last night.”

“That has to mean something, does it not?”

Edea hesitated, thinking. “I suppose you may be right. It’s not just your cycle, I think, and I’ve been irregular before. It’s just…” she bit her lip, trailing off and tucking her chin down. Ringabel held his breath, watching her, and to his horror, her eyes begin to well with tears. Was being emotional also a sign? How should he know?

“Oh, my dear,” he breathed, crawling closer on his knees. “Please don’t -”

As soon as he grasped her shoulders in his hands, she burst into tears and all but flew against his chest. Ringabel staggered slightly at the sudden addition of her weight, but recovered before he could fall back, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders. Edea clung to him, squeezing him perhaps a bit too tightly around the waist while he rocked her. Ringabel bore it as best as he could; it was nothing compared to what he’d felt as a Dark Knight, and she was shaking in his arms besides. He could stand a bit of difficulty breathing if he could comfort her, and right now that was most important to him. He leaned his cheek against her hair and breathed through his nose.

After what seemed like an eternity, she loosened her grip on his waist and he took a deep breath, leaning back to look her over, though she still kept her face down.

Her cheeks were red and splotchy, her eyes swollen with tears, and her nose leaking just as freely as her eyes. Ringabel frowned at the sight, and smoothed her hair away from her face with one hand, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief with the other.  When he handed it to her, she took it quietly and wiped her face before she blew her nose.

“Do you feel better?” he asked. He wasn’t sure what else to say. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to cry, but he wasn’t sure she would appreciate the lie.

“A bit,” she confessed. “Thank you. For this, and… this. I’ll wash it and give it back,” she said, and tossed the dirty handkerchief to the side for now. Then, she tossed her hair back over her shoulders to look up at him more properly.

“You were crying too,” she said. It was not an accusation.

“Was I?” Ringabel asked, surprised. He reached a hand to his cheek, and yes - his cheeks were wet, and it couldn’t possibly be from Edea’s tears. “I suppose that seeing you cry - it makes me want to cry as well.” He certainly didn’t like to see her cry, especially over something like this.

This was his fault. He should have kept his distance, done his best to be sure they were both warm and safe without breaching the barriers between them, and - Ringabel squawked as she hit him on the head.

“Ah, careful! What was that for?!” he cried, rubbing at his head. She could hit hard when she wanted to, and if he had to go and fix his hair, it would change his whole flight schedule.

“Don’t think you can say something cool and get away with thinking that you’re to blame for this whole thing,” she said.

“I was not…” he lied, feeling a bit ashamed she had guessed his inner thoughts so easily.

Edea just shook her head at him. “I told you before, Ringabel. I don’t regret that we… were together in the cabin. I really don’t. I’m just not ready for… this.”

“No, I agree,” he replied. Of course, he wanted a family. There were times when he wanted a family more than anything, but he wanted a  _proper_  family, where he and his  _wife_  were happy and settled and the world was peaceful and he could spend all of his days with his children and didn’t need to go out and fight in wars. That was not this time. That was not any time in the near future, as far as he could tell. “I just - ”

“I wouldn’t have let you sleep with me if I hadn’t wanted it,” she was saying now, clutching herself tightly. Her voice was trembling. “I knew the risks, I just thought…”

“Stop,” he said firmly, grasping her arms. “I’ve an idea. How about neither of us blame ourselves, or each other?”

Once again, she dove into his arms, and he grunted, settling back on his bottom when Edea pushed against him. If that was what she wanted, fine.  _This is not the time or place_ , he thought desperately to his lower half as she settled onto his lap. Then again, at the mere thought of what her being late meant, he could feel his anxiety spike and his stomach churn. That would hopefully be enough to curtail anything inappropriate.

For some time, he held her tightly as he had before, rocking her gently in his arms. If she wanted to cling, he’d let her cling. He wasn’t keen on the idea of her crying, but if she wanted to cry, he would let her do that as well. It was the least he could do, all things considered.

She was quiet, and still in his arms. Lost in her thoughts, perhaps, just as he was quickly swallowed by his own anxious imaginings. What this meant. What would happen if she wasn’t just ‘late’ and in fact something more than just feelings had developed as a result of their joinings. What they would do after. What their friends would say. What her  _parents_  would say.

He was getting chills just thinking about Braev’s reaction. Now  _he_  wanted to cry.

Edea finally pulled back, her eyes dry.

“I don’t know what to do about this,” she admitted. “This isn’t some enemy I can just fight a battle against and win.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, he smiled. She had probably thought about it, though. “Perhaps we should return to Eternia? The White Mages may be able to help, one way or another.”

“You’re taking this better than I thought,” Edea replied, instead of answering his question. She cocked her head at him, leaned back to really look at his face. Ringabel avoided meeting her eyes with his own, instead looking down at her hips and holding them in his hands to make sure she didn’t fall back and hurt herself.

“I’m trying not to think too hard on it,” he finally said, when the weight of her gaze grew too much. “It’s - I’m really trying not to think about it.” He just wanted to think about the here and now, and Edea’s smile that he was beginning to miss.

“I wish I had it that easy,” she grumbled, and there was an awkward silence between them before she began to climb off his lap. Despite the harshness of her words, she swooped to kiss his cheek.

“As do I.”

“Perhaps I can see a doctor in Eisenberg,” she said. “Airy will complain too much if you turn around now. We have to keep going, but there’s no reason we can’t make a detour at our destination.”

“Right,” he said, and though his stomach felt hollow and his chest hurt, he offered her a smile as he stood as well. “In the meantime, Holly Whyte left some of her medical books on the Eschalot. I’ll look through them tonight.”

Holly had practiced combat medicine, not anything related to pediatrics or whatever it was that this fell under, but he wanted to at least try. She’d had female soldiers she’d had to look after as well, after all. There might be something in her materials that could explain this as something more than the obvious. Maybe women’s cycles were late every few months. Maybe women didn’t really sync up that easily. Maybe Edea’s body was still recovering from the week it had spent barely eating. He knew that he hadn’t felt sated on food for a few days after returning from the cabin, and he had normal eating habits, unlike Edea.

Maybe Agnès was early. That could be it.

Edea was giving him an incomprehensible look, her hand still on his arm. Ringabel tried not to squirm under the scrutiny.

“Don’t stay up too late,” she finally said. “I… I’ll come looking for you if you’re not in bed.”

“That’s not a very good threat,” he replied, raising an eyebrow at her. “How will you know? Let Tiz have his privacy. ”

Her cheeks flushed, an attractive red that normally would get his blood pumping, were it not currently occupied fueling his anxiety. “Just come see me tomorrow morning!” she said, and turned to stampede down the stairs, her hair twirling behind her and smacking him in the face.

Ringabel sighed, and simply waved to her back.

As soon as the door to the bridge shut behind her, he leaned against the sturdiest part of the old, wooden railing and buried his face in his hands. Why couldn’t his journal have prepared him for  _this_?!

He couldn’t fly in this condition, not when his mind was already flying at top speed replaying everything that had just happened, and imagining the worst possible ways this could end. They remained moored over the ocean for the rest of the evening and into the morning, where Edea found him curled up in one of the armchairs in the inn.

He was dozing; had been sleeping on and off for hours, with a large book on his lap.

“What’s this?” she asked, perching on the edge.

His eyes ached with lack of proper sleep, and his stomach was growling from lack of food. He had stopped drinking coffee hours ago (the jittering had made it hard for him to focus), but he hadn’t eaten more than a snack since he’d stopped his flight. It had been a long night.

“I told you,” he replied, trying not to give in to the desire to lean his head against Edea’s side, so very close as she sat on the arm of the chair. “It’s one of Holly’s anatomy textbooks.”

“You’re really looking?” she asked, surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he replied, feeling a little disgruntled at the lack of faith she seemingly had in him. His lack of sleep was not helping his temper. “I got - I  _helped_  you get into this mess. I have to help you get out. It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

Tiz had found him hours ago, just before the sun had burst over the horizon. The shepherd’s habit was to wake early in the morning, unless he was exceedingly tired from traveling the night before. Through the months of traveling, the  _worlds_  of traveling, he had yet to break that habit, despite Ringabel’s best efforts. Ringabel had managed to wave off Tiz’s concern, weaving a net of lies that he was doing independent research to maximize the White Mage Asterisk’s potential. He wasn’t entirely sure Tiz was convinced, but it had gotten him off the hook for now, especially when Agnès had come out into the lobby and asked him to share whatever he found with her later. She had still been wearing her nightgown, and Tiz had been completely distracted. That had stopped the questions for now, which was good, because Ringabel had started to read the section on fertility soon after, and it was hard enough to get through without making up lies.

“Well… wait, did you even sleep last night?” she asked him suspiciously, leaning back to look at him more closely. Her hand smoothed over his hair, and he batted it away impatiently. His pompadour needed tending to - it was wilting slightly from lack of fresh hair product, and if she messed with it, it would look even worse.

“I napped,” he said. That wasn’t a lie. He’d fallen asleep with the book on his lap at one point, until he was woken by the seagulls outside the windows. That usually meant they weren’t far from land. That would be good at least; he could get them to the shores of the Eisen region and take a nap later where it was nice and warm.

“A nap only isn’t good,” she groused. He watched her fidget for a few moments, twisting her hands, and resisted the urge to yawn as he waited for her to get through her inner turmoil. Perhaps it was time for him to get more coffee.

He had just made the decision that he’d place in a bookmark and make the trek down to the pub for breakfast when Edea threw up her hands, growling.

“Mrgrgr!”

“What?” he asked, startled. Had he done something to deserve that particular growl? She hadn’t done that to him in months.

“I’m tired too!” she said, sighing. “Why don’t we both just go lie down? We can even lie down together, if you’d like.”

“You slept all night,” he pointed out, but the idea was very tempting and her offer was a nice surprise, after his long night. He had slept with her only a few times since returning from Gravemark, and he missed it. The body heat in the cabin’s chill had been nice, the cuddling even more so, not to mention the - he probably shouldn’t think fondly of the sex, given their current situation, but it had been good in the moment. And such, such a bad idea. Still, he had been overjoyed when she let him sleep next to her even after the ordeal was over, and wouldn’t mind doing so now.

“I didn’t actually,” Edea replied. “I couldn’t sleep. Not with everything on in my head. And my stomach felt like it was all twisted up into knots. I even only had one plate at dinner last night. Which you missed, you know.”

“I know,” he said. “I simply wasn’t hungry. Were you worried?” he teased. Then, he discovered that sitting down did not make it easy for him to dodge the fist that she swung, her cheeks bright. “Ow.”

“Someone has to keep an eye on if you’re going to be stupid and neglect yourself,” she said, and he took a bit of offense to that.

“I am not neglecting myself,” he lied, because he realized in the middle of his sentence that it certainly looked that way, and the current state of his hair certainly did not look like a man who was taking care of his appearance. It was shameful. “Though if I  _were_ -”

“Do you  _really_  want to finish that sentence?” she asked, batting at his shoulder. Ringabel batted back.

“As I was saying, if I  _were_  neglecting myself, does this mean you’re volunteering to take care of me?” he finally asked, giving her one of his brightest smiles. He may have been tired but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still show Edea the better parts of him.

“Someone has to,” she repeated, rolling her eyes.

“Dear, you wo - wait, what?” That was not the answer he had been expecting. Usually, she shot him down so quickly he’d memorized the conversation.

“Come on,” she said, instead of answering him. Tugging at his arm, she succeeded in coaxing him from the chair that he sat, though he managed to regain his brain fast enough to save the book from hitting the floor and getting damaged. Setting it aside in the seat, he let Edea pull him down into the hallway of the inn.

“What are we doing?” he asked dumbly once they stopped in front of the door to the room that the girls shared. Had she been serious before?

“Since someone thinks he can go without sleep, someone has to be forced to take a nap,” Edea replied.

“Someone is perfectly fine,” Ringabel insisted, feeling his cheeks grow hot. “I am, really. You needn’t worry about me so, though I am of course flattered.”

“And since I couldn’t sleep last night, I thought maybe I’d sleep better if you were napping with me.”

Ringabel pressed his lips together rather than reply immediately. This felt like some sort of trap. He could continue to try to give Edea her space and go eat breakfast with the others and try to make it through the day with coffee, or he could give in to her request and spend the morning in bed with her, asleep or not asleep.

There was really no choice.

“I haven’t showered,” he pointed out as he closed the door behind him. The styling product could only last so long, and the tips were already curling and drooping. Some of the product might even get on her bedclothes, and they weren’t supposed to do laundry for another few days. Not to mention, he was certain he didn’t smell the freshest. When Edea turned away from him to rummage through her dresser, he sniffed his arm surreptitiously.

“You didn’t shower while were in Gravemark either,” she said. He had no good response to that, because she was right, and she had slept with him anyway.

He did his best not to look at her as she stripped out of her clothes, tossing aside the blouse she’d been wearing and shimmying out of the skirt she’d chosen for the day. It went on the floor, where she picked up her nightgown and tugged it on over her head. For his part, he removed and folded up his top and pants, placing them carefully on an empty spot on the dresser. It wouldn’t do for Agnès to come in and find them partially undressed, and at least he could make it look as innocent as possible. Like it was planned and all he and Edea had wanted to do was sleep.

Once he was down to just his underthings, he climbed into the bed where Edea was waiting, a corner of the bedcovers already pulled back for him. The sheets were cooling and smooth on his skin, and the bed itself was so soft. He grunted as he sank down and Edea tossed the comforter over him, covering them both up completely. It was as if he had forgotten how nice a bed could feel, and for a moment, he just lay there, soaking up the good feelings.

“See?” Edea asked as he got himself comfortable, curling up on his side and practically snuggling into the pillow. Her pillow. His eyes were still hurting, but the pain would be over soon, and that itself brought relief. “You needed this.”

Then, he opened said eyes as she pressed herself to him, molding to his front.

“You could have asked,” he mumbled, shifting his arms so that he could spoon Edea against him. Despite her squirming, the feeling of her body, warm and soft, against his own was almost as nice as the pillow under his head.

“I did ask,” she pointed out, and Ringabel only whined a little bit when she elbowed him in the side rolling over to face him. With much effort, he cracked one eye open to gaze into hers. They were bright and clear, and didn’t look near as tired his own.

“I thought you said you couldn’t sleep,” he said, trying not to yawn right in her face. That was impolite, even for him.

“I couldn’t,” she insisted, poking him in the stomach and making him whine again. “My brain was too busy. I don’t know how people can stand it, thinking all the time…”

“We get by,” he teased, and squeezed her hip when she poked him again. When he shifted his leg to slip it between hers, she could get close enough to lay her head on his shoulder, her breath tickling his neck.

“How would you know?” she bit back, and he supposed he had set himself up for that. He pouted.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked, dodging her question. He was very smart, thank you very much, but was feeling too tired to argue with Edea about it.

“About you know what, obviously.”

Ringabel felt his cheeks burn. Yes, obviously that’s what would have been on her mind, just as it had been on his all night. He shifted uncomfortably, squeezing Edea’s waist carefully with his arm. “And? What was the result of all those thoughts?”

Her eyes fluttered shut, and he inhaled sharply when she nuzzled against his cheek. He hadn’t shaved, so stubble was coming in, and he was suddenly reminded of their time together in the cabin. This was not the time to be having such thoughts!

Luckily for him, she didn’t respond immediately, giving himself time to send urgent messages to his lower half about behaving. When she did speak, her voice was soft, a far cry from her usual.

“About… all of this. You. Me. Us. This.”

He struggled to comprehend what in the world she was saying. “… And?” he dared to ask, not sure if the confusion was a result of his tiredness or otherwise.

Instead of answering him immediately, she wound an arm around his waist, tugging herself closer, and Ringabel could have sworn he felt the feather light touch of her lips against his neck. He sighed, lifting the hand of the arm she was laying on so that he could run his fingers through her hair. “You’re confusing me, angel,” he finally said, breaking the silence.

“M'sleepy,” she replied, and he smiled.

“You’re sleepy? Weren’t you just insisting  _I_  get some sleep?” he teased her, turning his head down just enough to kiss the top of her head.

“But I’m so cozy here,” she complained, mewling slightly at him. Her hand pawed at his hip, and he shifted, trying not to grind himself against her even as he wiggled at the touch. “I missed this.”

“I missed this too,” he murmured, feeling emotion swell in his chest. Even if they weren’t - being intimate - there was still something wonderful about feeling her so close to his own form. She was so warm and so soft, and her slow breathing was relaxing him. He’d never been close to another person before his time in the cabin - not as Alternis, not as Ringabel - but it was a wonderful feeling he couldn’t forget easily.

“I keep thinking that… if I’m really - you know, really  _that_ , then all of this will change. You, me, everything,” she said softly.

“It doesn’t have to - ” he started, but she cut him off with a laugh.

“Of course it does, Ringabel. Things can’t stay so simple. They’re already changing, after all.”

“Are they?” he asked, surprised. He… hadn’t noticed! “What do you mean?”

She giggled now, her body shaking against his own. “Oh, Ringabel.” This time he was certain that she kissed his jaw, and he closed his eyes as pleasure spiked in him. “You can’t tell?”

“I’m tired,” he complained, feeling heat in his cheeks from both his embarrassment and his arousal. She felt so nice against him, even if she was laughing at him.

“That’s not a good excuse,” she said, and then her lips were on his own, and Ringabel gasped against her mouth, all of his arguments and excuses flew out the window. Spurred on by her, he eagerly kissed her back once he had regained his thoughts, clutching her tightly to him.

When they parted it, was only to breathe, and then they leaned together again, noses pressed awkwardly together until he adjusted the angle of the kiss, rolling slightly to cover her. His thigh, already slightly between hers, pressed up and against her, and she moaned against his wet lips.

At the sound her moan, Ringabel pulled back, startled. She looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, lips slightly parted and kiss-swollen. He swallowed at the sight.

“We should… sleep,” he offered, mind racing to think of anything but Edea underneath him. This was hardly the time for them to be intimate, all things considered. All of a sudden, the worry that had consumed him all night resurfaced. Edea was late, and he was powerless to do anything about it. Could being intimate make it worse? Or would that make it better? He didn’t know, but thinking about the possibilities was dizzying.

She pressed her lips together. “You’re right. We can talk when we wake up,” she decided after a long, uncomfortable moment, looking away. “About us.”

About them. Dread was boiling in his belly, effectively killing off any arousal or joy he might be feeling. Ringabel settled once again on his side, and Edea curled up on his arm, cutting off the blood flow. “We will,” he promised. “Once we wake.”

“And we need to talk about me being late.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. “Yes, dear. I know.” How was he going to sleep now, thinking about it again?

“This is a few years too early,” she murmured as she pulled the blankets up over her shoulder and snuggled in again. “I wanted to wait until after the journey had ended and Eternia was stable.”

Was that when she had wanted children? Ringabel murmured his agreement even as he tried to calm his anguished inner thoughts enough for sleep, his eyes pleading for relief. He had been thinking much the same. Family would be good, perhaps when he was in his late twenties. Early thirties at latest. And he wanted to be a father, and not just a man to provide support to the family. If the wars Eternia fought were over, that would be best…

“We would get married, and then have children a couple of years later,” she was saying now, voice thoughtful. “I’m not sure how many I want, though. More than one, if we can… but not too many, Ringabel. I’m the one who has to carry them.”

He smiled, not sure if she could see the quirk of his lips from where her head was nestled. “Mmhmm.” Thinking about having a family  -  _years_ in the future - was calming his heart. Yes, he wanted at least two. Perhaps three. At least one of each, though. And if he was no longer a soldier, he could stay at home and help raise them. Give them the love and affection he’d never had growing up.

Edea kept talking, her voice trailing off to barely more than a whisper as his thoughts wandered into a nice, fuzzy direction. Tuning out her voice, he was already imagining his little ones, with curly blonde hair and blue eyes, who would have all of his best features and none of his worst (certainly not his nose). They would call him 'Papa’ and he would tell them every day how much he loved them, and he would make sure that nothing terrible would befall any of his children.

He fell asleep at some point, warm and cozy, and woke to the sound of Edea’s snores.

The light in the room had brightened. Rubbing at his eyes as he carefully propped himself up - his arm was asleep, and it tingled when he moved it - he glanced at the shadows that had fallen across the bed. Judging by their angle, it was early afternoon. He and Edea had been asleep for hours.

And in that time, she had drooled a wet spot on his shoulder, one that he carefully wiped away with a grimace. What had they been talking about before falling asleep? He couldn’t quite remember now, even if he felt much refreshed from the nap. For Edea’s part, she was still curled up on her side, clutching his waist all the more tighter as he moved. He smiled at her, and pushed some of her damp hair away from her face and mouth.

He could lay in bed with her for hours, he decided, and settled back to attempt to fall back asleep to spend those hours. Tugging the blankets back over himself, he closed his eyes again.

The rest had soothed his nerves, but now that he was no longer exhausted, he found that sleep evaded him, not least because of how his arm was wailing in discomfort. He waited patiently for the pain in it to abate. Then, he shifted so that he could scratch a small itch in his back. Then, his nose was itching too - Edea had once again moved enough that her hair had fallen into his face, and it wouldn’t budge no matter how he blew at it.

After that was taken care of, he tried in vain to sleep, but now he was aware of the sweat. That had been a problem too, in Gravemark. By the time they’d spent an entire night together under thick covers, their body heat had caused them to get just a tad too hot. The result had been an annoying sticky mess, and Ringabel sighed at the uncomfortable wetness on his stomach and leg, where his earlier movement had dislodged him enough from Edea that he was aware of the accumulation of sweat on his skin. Maybe next time he needed to wear a shirt.

Luckily, Edea’s nightgown was nearby. He reached down between them to wipe some of his sweat off onto her garment, sighing in relief when his skin was dry and no longer annoying. Then, he had to lift his hand again to stare at it, because there was something sticking to his fingers despite said wiping, and -

Edea woke when he pulled away from her and fell off his side of the bed, screaming.

“Who’s attacking?” the girl shouted, reaching for the sword she always kept nearby. She rolled off the bed as well, ready to fight.

Her hair was wild, and her eyes were wide, and she was clutching her sword tightly in two hands, and he would normally admire the sight were it not for the blood that had stained the bottom of her nightgown thoroughly, causing it to stick to her thighs.

He gaped at her, and she squinted at him, and then at his bloody hand and the blood that had spread across his bare thigh, and she said only. “Oh.”

Ringabel was  _mortified_. Not only that he had reacted so violently to a little blood - he’d seen worse - but because it was her blood, and it was on the both of them and the bed sheets, and this meant - oh. It meant she wasn’t late anymore.

Edea was beginning to turn red, looking away from him. Shame filled him.

“I-I’m sorry, my dear,” he said, stammering slightly as he watched her lower the sword. He would be lucky if she didn’t stab him with it. “I was startled. What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing,” she said too quickly, sliding the sword back into the scabbard and laying it against the nightstand. “Don’t worry about it, Ringabel. Just get out.”

He wanted to take a shower, but she needed one more at the moment. “No,” he said, and when Edea pulled her stained nightgown away from her thighs to examine the damage, he bent to strip the soiled bedclothes off the bed, taking care that the bloodied portions didn’t come into contact with his skin and cause more of a mess. Balling it up tightly, he tucked it under one arm. “Would you like to take a shower? I’ll be happy to grab a change of clothes and bring them to you.”

She was giving him a look he wasn’t sure how to interpret, her eyes slightly narrowed. He pretended not to be afraid as he stood there, smiling at her as best he could.

“I… yes,” she finally said, her shoulders slumping. “Thanks, Ringabel.”

“Think nothing of it!” he said, as she made her way to the doorway and left the room. Only once she was gone did he exhale in relief and guilt. He may not have been comfortable with the topic before, but now he had no choice but to get over it.

As embarrassing as it had been, at least they were now both assured that nothing permanent had come out of their time together in the woods. Nothing permanent except a few blood stains, at least.

Well! If there was one thing Alternis had prided himself on, it was getting blood stains out of fabric, and at very least, the bed itself didn’t seem to have gotten blood on it, which was good. Mattresses were always so difficult to clean.

If he was to bring Edea a change of clothes as promised, he would have to do something about the bedclothes he was carrying. And he needed to wash his hands and his leg before he got blood on anything else. And he would have to put on some clothes so that he didn’t shock Agnès if she were to come in and see him rummaging through Edea’s clothes. Come to think of it, he needed to ask Edea what was hers, so that he didn’t get caught going through  _Agnès’s_  clothes.

And while he was thinking about it… perhaps he needed to look into buying protection so that this sort of thing didn’t happen again.


End file.
